The Dog Headed Superman
by PhycoKrusk
Summary: Lost in the multiverse after the Infinite Crisis, Krypto finds himself on an Earth with everything needed for greatness, except for a light to show it the way. An Earth that needs a champion to begin the neverending battle for truth and justice.


**The Dog-Headed Superman**

**His Name is Kent . . . .**

The universe exploded with bright light. And then, everything was darkness and silence. Slowly, the dog forced his eyelids opened, each feeling like it was made of steel, heavy and rigid. It was still dark, although the darkness was punctured in places by thin beams of light, as if he were under a black cloth that had uneven holes chewed in it. But it wasn't a cloth; it was heavy, many times heavier than he was, and he could barely breathe. Even when he did breathe, it hurt. Everywhere, it hurt. The dog didn't have a memory of how he got to where he was, a memory of anything, but he knew he had to get out. He pushed against the iron cloth that had trapped him, but found it no use. He pushed again, and suddenly the darkness moved away, white light blinding him. He shut his eyes tightly and raised his arms to protect them. For the first time he could remember, he heard sound.

He felt hands grabbing him, and he risked opening his eyes to see who it was. At first, he was blind, like a new-born puppy, but soon he could see, just barely. Other dogs, speaking to him in a language he was sure he knew but couldn't quite make out. He heard other sounds, mechanical sounds. The loudest sounds he could ever remember hearing, and he closed his eyes again and covered his ears with his hands. He had hands, yes, and could use them. The dog opened his eyes and looked down at himself, finding that he was all there, bloody as his white fur may have been. Finally, he understood the gibberish the other dogs were saying. "Are you alright?" How could he be alright? He couldn't remember where he was, or where his clothes had gone, or if he had ever had clothes at all. They brought a towel to him to cover himself with and asked again, was he alright? He could not speak his response, but could nod and did nod. He was not alright, but he would be.

They called for a doctor to come and see his injuries, and at the doctor's order, helped him to his feet and led him from what might have been his tomb. Again, he chanced the use of his eyes and looked around him, finding that he was in a city of ruin. He looked to where the others had found him, and saw that a building had collapsed around him. That's what must have happened, yes, he was in the building and it somehow collapsed, and he somehow survived. Why he was in the building, he could not remember. That, or anything before it. Away from the machines, the dog could hear himself thinking again, and began thinking immediately, trying to remember how he had come to this place, to remember anything. The others asked him if he could speak, so he tried, managing to hoarsely answer the affirmative. They asked him his name, and he couldn't be sure what it was, for it was all blank. The doctor, with the black-spotted white coat of a dalmatian, said he might remember soon when he suddenly felt a sharp sting in the front of his head and held his face in his hands. Again, they asked if he was alright, and he answered that he could remember. "Kent," he said, "My name is Kent."

At once, they asked him more, how old he was, what was his blood type, but he could remember nothing else. "My name is Kent," he said again, "That's all." The doctor said that this was good, that he would remember the rest soon. The doctor then left, called to help someone else they had found. Kent asked where he was, and learned that he was in a place called Endopolis. But he knew that wasn't where he was supposed to be. He told them it wasn't right. But where he should have been, he didn't remember. He only knew he should have been somewhere else. The others didn't blame him, and asked Kent if he would like to sleep. He said he would, and they took him to a tent with uncomfortable-looking beds, and gave him clothes to wear and then left. Kent dressed himself and laid down, and his world returned to darkness and silence.

When Kent opened his eyes, he was in a different place. It was a room, and he was in a bed and in clothes as white and sterile as the floors and walls. The lights were dim, and he saw that he was attached to a machine. It was a much quieter machine than the ones he heard before, and when Kent looked at its green line and numbers, he understood that this machine was telling him and the rest of the world that he was alright. It was a good machine. Kent could hear other sounds, and he turned away from the machine when the door to his room opened. A female entered, a great dane, who was dressed in blue and must have been a nurse. Kent could remember what nurses were, and was happy to see her. "You're one of the survivors, right?" she asked, "From Endopolis?" Kent puzzled at her question. "I think so," he answered, "A building fell on me, and now I'm here." This seemed to make the nurse happy.

"Sorry for bothering you," she said, "But this was the only way I could get a story. I work for the Daily Howl. Lois Dane, maybe you've heard of me." Kent felt a little angry, but supposed he couldn't fault her. "I don't know if I have. You're a reporter? The place you work is a newspaper?" he asked. Lois Dane puzzled at his question, this time. "Yes, I- nevermind," she said, "Would you mind saying a few things for the people back home?" Kent nodded. "Wherever home is, they'll be disappointed with me," he said. "Why will they be disappointed?" the reporter asked. "My name is Kent," said Kent. The name held no meaning for Lois Dane, who scribbled it down on her writing pad. "What can you tell me about Endopolis, Mister Kent?" she asked. "My name is Kent," repeated Kent. "That's all?" the reporter asked. "That's all," the survivor said, "My name is Kent, and I don't know why I was where I was. I should have been somewhere different, but I don't know where." Lois Dane seemed satisfied all the same, thanked him and quietly snuck out just as she'd snuck in.

The next day, Lois Dane came back to take Kent's picture. The day after that, Kent was in the newspaper. "HIS NAME IS KENT," said the front page, and somewhere in his mind, Kent felt happy. No one knew who he was, or why he was where he was found, but maybe someone out there knew both and would tell him, and then he could go home. Kent was feeling better, and two days after he was in the paper, the doctors had decided to release him. When he moved to the halfway house, the newspapers followed him, chronicling his "amazing story". Kent didn't think it was amazing, but he continued to tell them that his name was Kent, and that was all, in the hopes that someone might recognize him. Before long, Kent moved further and further back in the newspaper, and the front page instead talked about horrible tragedies like the one where he had been found. Kent felt terrible inside when he read about these tragedies, and wanted to do something. But Kent didn't even know where he was from, so there was nothing he could do. At night, he would go up to the roof and look up towards the stars. He would wish that the horrible tragedies would stop, that cities would stop being destroyed. He would wish that he could do something. Every night, he would look to the stars and wish, and one night, someone had joined him.

"Good evening, Kent," she said to him. Kent did not know who she was, nor could he determine anything about her. Only that she was a shadow, with two purple eyes, and that her clothes looked like the night sky, full of twinkling stars. "Hello?" Kent replied cautiously, "I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can tell you. My name is Kent, because that's all I know." "My name is One," the star-clad shadow replied, "Because there is only one of me." Although One was strange and alien to him, Kent did not feel afraid of her. "How do you know me?" he asked as he approached, "Is it because of the papers?" "No," One replied, "It is because you are very special, Kent. Come closer. There is something I wish to show you." When Kent reached her, One placed a sleeve on his shoulder, for it was so long that if she had a hand, it did not emerge from the end. Kent closed his eyes to calm the anxious feeling in his stomach, and when he opened them again, he found himself gazing down at the entire world from above.

Even floating among the stars, Kent felt no fear. Only a sense of calm belonging as he looked at them. "You brought me to Endopolis," Kent said as he turned to One. One slowly shook her shadowy head. "I watched you arrive here," she said, "But did not bring you here. It's fortunate that you came here." Kent looked back down at the planet. "This is Earth," he said to One, "But this isn't my Earth, is it?" One drew Kent closer to her, as if she were trying to protect him from something. "It is not," she said, "Once, there was only one Earth. But now, there are many. I will help you remember, if you wish to." Kent wasn't sure if he wanted to remember, suddenly afraid now of what he might recall. He surprised himself by saying yes, that he wanted to remember, and when One gently touched his forehead, his memories came rushing back.

He remembered another Earth, the first Earth. He remembered his home on Earth-One, where he walked on four legs. Where the world was ruled by the creatures called humans, that he knew did not exist on this Earth. He remember, finally, his masters, and he remembered the evil false master. The great destroyer that he ruined so much in the name of a perfect Earth. The god of death that, through One, Kent knew was still out there, somewhere among the cosmos, or one of them. And Kent felt himself grow very sad, now that he could remember a home he could not walk upon. "I'm sorry, Kent," One said, "I am sorry _Krypto_. It may not be for you, but for this Earth, it is very fortunate that you fell here." "I don't belong on this Earth," Kent, now Krypto, replied, "Please, take me home." "I'm sorry, Krypto," One said again, "But it's beyond my power." The dog sighed, his sadness growing with the memories of a home he would never see again.

"This could be a perfect world, Krypto," One continued, "But it is not. Listen to it." Krypto put his sadness aside and listened, and he found that he could hear everything. He could hear reporters on television, reporting the tragedies befalling the great nation of canines. He could hear the political leaders in the nation of felines and the state under their control, the propaganda to make the government strong. He could hear the cries of the helpless and downtrodden, falling on deaf ears. Cries that Krypto heard, that resonated deep within his soul. One spoke again, bringing his attention back to her. "This world has all that it needs," she said, "All save a champion. They can be a great people, Krypto, if they wish to be. They only lack the light to show the way." Krypto focused on the world below him. "There's a city down there," he said, "It's crushed, burning. The people there won't survive for long without help. Why won't you help them?" "It's not my place to interfere, Krypto," she answered, "I am forbidden." "I'll interfere for you," the dog replied, without hesitation.

Krypto could feel One smiling, he thought. "Then go, Krypto. Go to them. Become the savior they call for." Krypto could feel his clothes shifting, changing themselves so that he was no longer Kent, but so that he was himself. Even though, not two weeks before, he was trapped under a building, he could feel awesome, godlike power surging through his body. Even from so great a height, he could clearly see the ruined city that was his destination. With a single impulse, Krypto tore himself down from the heavens, hurtling towards Earth, a streak of blue and red across the sky. Faster than a bird. Faster than a plane.

Faster than a speeding bullet.


End file.
